Colors
by nottheonlyfanaround
Summary: Fred after dying, looking out from the afterlife.


House: Ravenclaw

Word Count: 2801

Category: Themed

Prompt(s): [Speech] "Why do you keep saying goodbye?"

* * *

All his life had been filled with vibrant colors, reds and yellows, oranges and pinks. The train to Hogwarts with its fiery scarlet color, a maroon which he wore proudly on his robes. As he grew more and continued moving forwards in his life the colors stayed. They stayed warm, vibrant, and bright; a sign that he was alive and well. A sign that life was still with him, and he wasn't going to let it go. He'd sworn to live each day to the fullest, because you never knew if that day will be your last.

War struck, and yet the colors that surrounded him stayed bright because he was alive; he still had his family and friends, and that was all that could ever matter to him. They'd made the best of it, the yellow and cranberry Christmas lights that Hermione helped them set up, or the orange of presents left under the trees. The bright yellow glow the fire illuminated onto the faces of his family and friends as they smiled and laughed.

Even during the fiercest battle he had ever fought, the colors were there; the bright almost neon reds of curses, shot from both dark and light wizards, a signal of danger. A bright red blast of light was the last color he saw before it all turned to blues, greens, and purples.

When that scarlet curse was fired at him, missing him by only inches and he'd thought he was safe. Until it hit the wall behind him instead, leaving it to start breaking and collapsing. It was that moment when Fred Weasley knew that was it for him. Knew that those were the precious last moments he would have left in the land of the living. He wasn't wrong, closing his eyes with a smile on his face, the red of the curse still flashing behind his eyelids. When he opened them again he was met by a land painted in cool tones, the most prominent color being blue.

Fred had always joked with George that they'd cause even Death trouble; of course, that had been with the assumption that they'd leave the world _together_. But that clearly wasn't the case now. It was different from what he'd expected the afterlife to look like, he'd expected people to be happier than most of them seemed to be. He met Remus and Sirius again, and was introduced to another man that he was told was Harry's father. Not that you had to look hard, they resembled each other greatly.

Sirius had told him that he would able to watch his family and friends, told him that he could see what was going on in the living world, but of course he had warned him that it might be hard to see at first. It _was_ hard for him. Looking through the blue haze watching his family weep as they buried his body was something he'd thought he wouldn't ever have to see.

As the days passed, Fred grew bitter. He had been told that it was all part of the process, all part of moving on. But the blue was aggravating, it wasn't growing on him like he'd thought it would; and he missed the reds and yellows, he didn't want to be here anymore.

One day Fred watched his family visit his grave, watched as George placed blue flowers next to _his_ headstone. He stayed, long after the rest of their family had gone, and he just talked to the gravestone; talked to it as if it was actually _him,_ as if he wasn't _really_ gone. It was almost like, to Fred, that his brother could almost hear him replying through the barriers of death. Although, Fred presumed it was more likely George just knew him well enough to predict what he would say. They were twins after all.

It was difficult at first, watching his brother grow up day by day, while _he_ had been prohibited from doing so. Watching George look into the mirror and _almost_ think it was _him_ instead, before shaking his head and moving on with his day. Leaving Fred to give a wry smile and fight back the tears. The blues of the afterlife turned lighter the more time he spent there, shifting into purples when he was happier, though turning back to a dark blue when he was sad.

He was always there, though his family didn't know it; he smiled when George proposed to Angelina. They'd become close after losing him, friends at first, but that had quickly changed into something more. He'd bounded up to Sirius with a smile and told him all about the proposal because he needed to tell someone, and Sirius was the closest person here that resembled family. They had their own little celebration in the afterlife, James, Sirius, Remus, and him. After entering the afterlife, it was like he was an honorary Marauder; the group glad _someone_ had continued making mischief in their absence.

Fred enjoyed watching his twin's wedding, his heart had both broken and become warm as he listened to their vows, both of them including how they wished _he_ could have been there himself to see it. Because, though they'd never know, it didn't feel _right_ for him to not be attending the wedding. It was like there was a missing piece there, he knew it was selfish to think, but the wedding just didn't seem perfect without him being there too.

The reception was wonderful, the speeches his family gave to his brother and sister in-law were heartwarming. The scenery around him turned deep blue in sadness, reflecting the regret Fred felt that he couldn't give a speech to his brother on his wedding day. It would have been long, he knew that much, there was so much he wanted to say to George. He hadn't been alone watching the wedding either; James and his wife, Lily, were there, Tonks and Remus, and Sirius as well, had gathered to see what had become of the jokester and his family.

It was good for him to see that George had kept running the joke shop, with Ron helping to run it too. The store brought people happiness, Fred didn't want it to stop just because he wasn't there anymore. Every time a customer bought something with a mischievous glint in their eyes he smiled, because it reminded him of himself when he was living, reminded him of all the looks he and George shared whenever they were planning a prank.

He watched Ginny's wedding too; how could he possibly miss it? She was his little sister, he wouldn't miss it for the world, in life _or_ in death. He didn't have to wait long to watch Ron and Hermione get married too. Fred grinned from ear to ear as his brother said his vows. It was bittersweet to Fred, that out of all his siblings, Bill's wedding was the only one he had attended in person. Even Percy got married, which made Fred happy, because at least _someone_ had found his bookishness attractive.

There wasn't a way to tell time in the afterlife, but it seemed to pass quickly when Fred wasn't watching his family. In fact, he didn't check on them for a while after Percy's wedding. He'd decided to focus on moving on, to connect with those that were around him, and to have a good time.

So it was a surprise to him, when he checked back in on his family, to find that George was a father to a baby boy. He'd heard George talking to his grave, the words that he'd spoken were almost heartbreaking.

"We named him after you, Freddie." George had sniffled, wiping away the tears at his eyes, unable to see him, Fred, standing on the other side of the tombstone in spirit, invisible to the living world, watching with a grin on his face and tears rolling down his cheeks. Fred knew his family would remember him, even though he had died, because George was there, and they looked the same to everyone but each other. But he didn't think George would name his firstborn son after him, they'd both used to joke about naming their child after themselves instead of the other.

This was yet another thing that didn't turn out how they'd thought.

From then on out Fred became more active in watching over his family, he felt great joy whenever he looked in his nephew's room and saw the child playing happily. The walls were a light blue, the floors a navy blue that almost looked black if you weren't concentrating. Little Fred II was a handful, mischievous, just like _he_ had been as a baby. Angelina had once given little Freddie some blue crayons, which he'd then used to aid him in coloring waves onto the walls of his room. The sight had made Fred laugh, something he hadn't done in what seemed like forever.

The first time Victoire went to Hogwarts, and George went along. He'd said goodbye as the train was leaving, which seemed odd to his nieces and nephews, along with his brothers and sister. But Fred knew, that was all that mattered. Year after year, even though he didn't have any children on the train, George would still say goodbye to it with tears in his eyes.

Fred loved watching his nieces and nephews play around, smiling when he found out a new child would be added to the family. Though he didn't have the chance to have children of his own in his life, he still enjoyed watching George play around with his. They'd had a girl, born a year or so after Fred II, and they'd named her Roxanne. It was a name Fred was fond of, he'd told George that's what he would name his kid if it was a girl, no one but George knew that.

He supposed, with a wry smile, that it was another little thing to remind George of him, as he looked at the little girl. What he'd found odd about her was she could _see_ him, she'd reach out and try to grab at him even though he wasn't physically there. She garbled out the name Fred once, reaching up at where Fred was watching. George had gone in and shushed her, wondering why she'd thought her brother was in the room.

When she'd started saying sentences, and talking to her brother, she hadn't called him by his name at first. Instead she used 'brother,' which caught Angelina and George off guard, though they brushed it off. Fred wondered vaguely if she could _actually_ see him, was it too much to hope that she could? He wanted it to be true, he wanted to tell her everything he wanted to say to his brother. But that would be unfair to her, she'd just be the messenger, and her family would think she was crazy.

So he left it alone, for the most part. He'd tried something out once, when she and her family had gone to the Quidditch World Cup. He waved at her, his eyes lighting up when she waved back, it had made him smile for the rest of the week. Fred II was fascinating to him, the kid was just as meddlesome as he and George were, which was good to see. The kid was so much like him it was unbelievable. Maybe mischief was something that George had passed down, and would continue to be passed down.

Fred watched the train leave the station yet again, George and the rest of their family watching it go away. His twin wishing it goodbye, leaving his children in deep confusion, the eldest asking his father about it.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you keep saying goodbye?" George had just smiled at his son and continued staring, not yet wanting to tell the real reason he wished it goodbye. Fred knew the reason. It was because of all their memories, the pranks planned on that train, the laughs they shared. That train was the place Fred's ghost was most likely to go, the place with the most happy memories, which is why George said goodbye each time the train left. After all, the last time they'd taken that train to Hogwarts they'd been together.

Fred had to admit that each time George said goodbye he was tempted to yell at the top of his lungs, that he was there and watching, that he'd never _really_ leave his twin. But he refrained, he knew that his brother wouldn't be able to hear him no matter how hard he screamed. The next year, Fred II went off to Hogwarts, and a year later Roxanne and Molly II followed. Then James II and Dominique, Albus and Rose quickly following. With Hugo, Louis, and Lucy being the last Weasleys to leave for Hogwarts in their generation.

He was tempted to follow them to Hogwarts, to watch over them, and see what they got up to; but sometimes he did see what his oldest nephew was up to. Most commonly when he looked over Hogwarts he would sit with Roxanne, who was receiving help to hone her gift for seeing the dead. Firenze still alive and had taken it upon himself to help the young girl after learning of her gift in his Divination class.

The two of them would talk to each other, Fred was glad that he finally had someone to talk to other than Sirius, Remus, James, and Tonks. Roxanne once asked how he had died, he had smiled at her and pointed at the wall that had been left in its' decrepit state, flowers laying at the base of the rubble. The school's tribute to the death of all those who had passed in the battle. His niece had asked if he'd wanted to die, or if he'd wanted to live on.

He'd paused to think of an answer, he wanted to live on, yes. Wanted to grow up and have a family, to see his brother every day until they both grew old and grey, to leave the world with his twin. But then again, he wouldn't have wanted to go any other way, he'd gone out chivalrously, in a way that would make even Godric Gryffindor proud. He had died protecting his family, friends, and all of Hogwarts. He'd died a hero.

The next two decades flew by quickly, the blues of his sadness were gone most of the time. Though every time he checked his grave, there were blue flowers that lay there and the terrain around him in the afterlife was a sort of icy blue. He wondered how George would deal with the change of colors. He'd ended up living a longer life of reds and oranges than Fred had, it would most likely be more of a change for _him_ to see the blue surrounding him than it had been for Fred.

It gave off a cold aura, the colors weren't as warm or vibrant as those he'd seen when alive. Victoire, when he'd checked up on her once, had shown she loved the color blue, so Fred supposed when it was her time she'd be happy to see all the blue surrounding her. Probably the only member of their family who wouldn't be at all phased by the change. The years kept passing, Fred watching George's red hair slowly turn more and more grey by the day. It was a blur as the years moved past at an alarming pace, so much happened in what seemed like such a little amount of time that Fred didn't have time to process it all.

Then it was white, George was lying in a bed at St. Mungo's. He was dying, Fred could see that it was as plain as day. He was surrounded by his friends and family; his mum and dad not present as they'd passed away years before him, crying with joy when they'd passed and saw Fred waiting for them. Now he was watching over his brother, who he knew wasn't going to be in that world for long.

"Freddie?" George whispered, leaving Ginny, Ron, Charlie, Angelina, and Bill to start crying. Fred nodded, smiling as tears ran down his face. All of a sudden there he was, a younger version of George staring at the blues that surrounded him. Fred watching him look up to see the smile he gave. It was a wide grin, one Fred had saved just for his brother. They ran towards each other, tears slipping out of their eyes as they hugged. Fred smiled and whispered the words he'd been waiting fifty years to say.

" _ **Welcome home, Georgie."**_


End file.
